The Believer

Last night my roots called to me, and my grandmother came in a dream. She was at her “mountain house” –the place she so loved, the house that became her home in the retirement years. We were upstairs in a big, expansive room, lined not with wall to wall carpet, but wall to wall grass. “Come dance with me,” she offered, stretching out her hands. I didn’t dance, but I watched her move, slow and lovely in her own age-ed way.

The dream changed then and she was sitting on the window ledge, her legs hanging over the side of the house, languidly smoking a cigarette.

And there we were, the five us, as we when we were in grade school — all braids, and bellbottoms, and knees skinned from rollerskating in the drive way.

“I’m happy here.” My grandmother shrugged. “If I fall, I fall.” She blew smoke away from me, up and away from the side of her mouth. “Besides,” she said, reaching over and tapping her opposite shoulder with the hand that held the cigarette. I have my wings.”

My Grandmother did indeed have her wings, inked on her shoulder by a tattoo artist when she was past 80. ”It’s an angel,” she told me. “Because I have my own beliefs you know.”

Grandma did have her own beliefs.

She believed when war is at hand, you should marry the man you love before he ships away. So she ran off and eloped, in spite of her parent’s disapproval. (And they were together ’til death did part.)

She believed that a woman could go back to work — because she wanted to, not because the family needed money– and that everyone would be the better for it. (My father and auntie agree.)

She believed she didn’t need to stop chain smoking, because something else would get her long before lung cancer did. And also, that she would be safer if she didn’t wear her seat belt. (Right in both cases.)

She believed it was good luck to “rub Buddha’s tummy,” and never passed the statue in the living room without giving it’s belly a shine. (See the aforementioned lack of auto accident injuries and absentee lung cancer.)

She believed that it was better to make gin and tonics for everyone waiting to pass through the Canadian border, than to give up the alcohol in the back of the camper. (The border guard agreed.)

She believed there should always be cookies in the jar, new jeans for back-to-school, and $25 on your birthday. (I received my last birthday check only when she could no longer remembered how to spell my name.)

She believed her grandchildren were “perfect, just perfect.” And indeed, through her eyes we felt like maybe we were–or at least, we were a better version of ourselves than we otherwise understood ourselves to be.

My grandmother was not a perfect woman. She smoked to much and worried too often. She hid her sparkle behind my more gregarious grandfather. She made far too many jello-and-mayonnaise salads.

No, Grandma was not a perfect woman. But she was a great believer. She believed in indulgence, and magic, and the power of family gatherings. She believed it always snowed on the dogwoods before the spring would come; and that if you played a roll of pennies, then nickels, then dimes before you started in on quarters you would have better luck at the slot machines. She believed you should always have a doll in your stocking; and when in doubt you should make a turkey and a ham for Christmas dinner.

Most of all she was a believer in us, her “just perfect”grandchildren. And that belief, that unconditional love, has given all of us wings.

May you have someone who believes in you. And may you pass your beliefs onto the ones you love.

(Amen? Amen.)

***

Who in your history believed in you? What beliefs (erroneous and otherwise) have been passed on through your ancestors? Come remember with us as we celebrate the Day of the Dead in Flock, our online soulcare community. Click here to join us before October 31st.

Oh, yes that is hard Renee. Not all our relatives show us love! That’s why I extend the idea of honoring and remembering people on dia de los muertos to anyone who has positively influenced us. Ancestors by blood, and ancestors of choice. Van Gogh, Rosa Parks, and St. Catherine and Claire all live on our ofrenda as well.

I just love this. And your last post about Day of the Dead too. Pondering now how I can best remember the loved ones who have passed. I love how you get me thinking, prompt me to fill life with meaning.fiona lynne recently posted..day 22: on baggage

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-- Jim Henderson, author, The Resignation of Eve

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Testimonials

“When I turn to Rachelle for help, her words are like the fine tuning of my soul–the interpretation of a truth that is sometimes hard to find. It’s golden to be heard and understood.”

-- Flock Member, Tracey Henton

“I think it says a lot that I refer to this community mentally as ‘my Flock’. There’s a sense when logging in of kicking back and relaxing, knowing that no-one is judging or trying to trip you up.”

-- Flock Member Tess Giles Marshall, Pilgrim's Moon

“When it comes to shopping for beliefs people are keeping their religious credit cards in their wallets. Rachelle leads without forcing, helps people avoid religious boredom and does it all with wisdom and a touch of ‘élan.”

-- Jim Henderson, author, The Resignation of Eve

"With vision and heart, Rachelle brings her passionate commitment to soul-care to life, creating a nest for creative spiritual misfits looking for that just-right fit. It’s a gift of love and inspiration and lights a powerful way.”

-- Jamie Ridler, certified life coach

"Rachelle seems to always know what I need to read. I savor her Flock emails like a piece of caramel. Then I give a *sigh* of comfort."